


A Day in the Life of Henry McCoy, M.D.

by orphan_account



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Humor, No actual plastic surgery involved, Trick Or Treat Prompts Challenge, plastic surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-11
Updated: 2014-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-20 17:00:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2436197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cosmetic surgery is a little difficult when mutants are involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day in the Life of Henry McCoy, M.D.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dhi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dhi/gifts).



{

That asshole Lehnsherr has vomited another horrid creation across the billboard outside Hank's office. Billowing capes in "powerfully" austere cuts and "striking" colors that almost match his grandmother's curtains certainly do no favors for the horrifically unnatural models wearing them. And whereas Lehnsherr accents grotesque physical mutations with increasingly hideous layers of clothing, Hank has made it his mission to eliminate the mutations.

Or, at least, minimize them as much as possible, he amends, appraising his new patient, who appears to be entirely blue with alarmingly yellow eyes and garishly red hair.

"Dr. McCoy," his patient nearly purrs, "I've heard that you're _amazing_ at this.”

“Hank,” he corrects in a dazed mumble. Her _entire body_ is blue and scaly. “Have you really?”

“Oh yes, I’ve met many of your previous patients—you are arguably the most popular surgeon on this side of the Atlantic. I’m sure you can do something about my condition.”

“I’ll—I’ll see what I can come up with,” he stammers.

}{

There’s a man prowling outside his office with an unsettling scowl and even more unsettling hair. When he finally strides in, Hank meets him with a nervous smile.

“Can I help you?”

“I need to get rid of these,” the man growls. He brings up his fist as if intending to punch Hank.

“Your…hands? What’s wrong wi— _shit_ ,” Hank curses, jumping backwards as sharp protrusions of bone erupt from between the man’s knuckles. Concealed weapons are prohibited on the premises, for fuck’s sake. “Okay. Okay, we can take care of those—“ Probably. Hank is a cosmetic surgeon, not an orthopedic one, and has no idea if removal of the bone is even feasible. However, he has some idea of how quickly those claws can run through a man. “I have an appointment in a few minutes, can I schedule you for another date?”

}{

The girl seems shy and flighty, so Hank gives an encouraging smile. What could she possibly want fixed? He doesn’t sell hair dye, although he supposes it’s theoretically possible to isolate and alter the gene responsible for hair color. It might take a few weeks, and she’d have to dye all of her existing hair anyway, unless she wanted to cut it off. In fact, if she would consent to his taking some samples of—

“—replace my skin.”

Hank blinks. “I’m sorry?”

“I was—wondering. If there’s some way you could replace my skin. You know, with artificial skin, or maybe graft it from someone else? Like for a burn.”

“Your….skin. Which parts?”

“Hands and arms and—and face, those are pretty important. But all of it, if you can. I can get the money,” she says with determined confidence.

“All of it,” Hank echoes. “Does it happen to turn blue, by any chance?”

“No,” Marie says, a small frown creasing her brow.

“Oh.”

}{

Two hours later, an abomination strolls into his office. He should have known the appointment was fake.

“Why are you here?” Hank bites out.

“Oh, I was hoping for some of your life-saving surgery, Dr. McCoy. Surely you can spare some time to rid me of my terrible affliction—what was it called?”

“Your supposed clothing line? You can’t really call it clothing, it’s a disgrace—“

“The outdated and unrealistic expectations of ‘normality’ that people like you impose and propagate—“

“—cannot believe you expect to walk around in what basically amounts to a Roman soldier’s helmet—“

“—should teach youth to be proud of what they look like, rather than throw money at your useless industry—“

“— _criminally_ burgundy— _“_

}{

Two hours later, Hank literally kicks Lehnsherr out of his office. Lehnsherr literally floats away, cape flowing behind in dramatic billows. He locks the door firmly.

Hank needs a drink.

}


End file.
